(Permanent Musical Accompaniment For The Last Post of The Week By The Blog's Second-Favorite Canadian)

This might have been more suitable for an earlier post, but this is my favorite graphic of the week. First of all, this is old-school bracketology because nobody seeded the field. (And, yes, I am aware that the notion of "seeding the field" in this context is an open invitation to doubling your entendres, thanks.) I hate when the committee always puts the Americans together in the first round, and that bracket at the bottom, with two guys from Brazil and one from Argentina? That's your group of death, right there. Downside — no over/under number on ballots. Upside — no Duke!

I never have been prouder of the five years I spent in the state of Wisconsin. I particularly like the way the miscreants behave as though they lifted Jimmy Hoffa, instead of a $3000 sausage costume.

Two men - one wearing a hoodie pulled tight over his face - lugged the larger-than-life link into the bar just before 8 p.m. Wednesday, plopped him on a bar stool and warned staff, "You did not see anything," said bartender Jen Mohney.

You got it, Muggsy. Leave the gun. Take the cannoli. And the sauseech.

Dear President Obama: Don't bring the geek unless you can really play, OK? Today, in your annual Sequester Day message, you referred to something called a "Jedi mind-meld." Jedis are from Star Wars. The mind-meld is a Vulcan technique from Star Trek. These are not the references you are looking for.

An Irish slaughterhouse has been caught labeling horse meat as beef and shipping it to a company in the Czech Republic, Ireland's government said Friday, in the latest crackdown on alleged fraud in Europe's month-old scandal.

That's an awful thing to do to the Czechs just because that cute couple from Once broke up.

Icelandic meat inspector Kjartan Hreinsson says his team did not find any horse meat, but one brand of locally produced beef pie left it stumped. It contained no meat at all. "That was the peculiar thing," Hreinsson said in a telephone interview Friday. "It was labeled as beef pie, so it should be beef pie."

This being Iceland, the people responsible will be punished and go to jail, just like all those Icelandic bankers did. By that measure, if you pulled that scam in the United States, you could wind up Secretary Of Agriculture.

I'm now planning to retire to Scott County, Iowa, because the old folks there know how to get down.

Now authorities are also charging Toliver's grandfather, William J. Marolf, 64, with hosting a drug house. He owns the home and is accused of allowing his grandson to make use of it to deal drugs, Scott County Sheriff's Lt. Bryce Schmidt said. "Police were getting tired of kids dealing out of the house, so they charged Grandpa," Schmidt said. Marolf's charge would be a serious misdemeanor if only marijuana had been found. But police say they found prescription pills, including suboxone, clonidine and clonazepam, that had been reported stolen. So he faces a Class D felony, punishable by up to five years in prison if convicted. In July 2009, a search warrant was executed at Marolf's residence and two ounces of synthetic ecstasy were found, according to court records. Toliver was convicted in connection with that offense and sentenced to two years of probation. In January, another search warrant was executed at the home and a psilocybin mushroom lab was discovered, resulting in drug charges that Toliver and Dwyer. Both have pleaded not guilty and trials are pending.

They closed down his ecstasy distributorship so he opened up a mushroom lab? This is a classic example of free-market American entrepreneurial enterprise. This guy should speak on We Did Build It night at the next Republican convention, if he's out on time.

Given that we're now into the Sequester Carnivale, and given the ongoing dissolution of the institution that once was Bob Woodward, there ought to be some classic gobshitery on Sunday. We'll be back with a review. Meanwhile, have a good weekend and play nice, ya bastids, or I'm coming to your cookout and I'm bringing Irish burgers. You'll know them. They whinny.